Fortune Favours The Bold
by PokeSpeBanette
Summary: A homeless fortune teller tries to make money on the streets. Only he doesn't make much money because he can only tell people how they're going to die.
1. Chapter 1

Renny: This is like one of those one-word-prompts things I sometimes see on the internet.

Green: And the majority of them suck, so this will likely suck too.

Renny: You just keep finding the bad ones, I sometimes find the good ones. Now, this idea kind of came about because I had a weird idea about a new headcanon for Green.

Green: Yay.

Renny: Shush. Basically, you know how some people say that mirrors are the windows to the souls? Well, ever since he got possessed, Green has had some weird ability where, if he looks into a mirror, he can see what a person's soul looks like. It's kinda useless since it's mostly himself he'd look at, but whenever there's another person with him, he can also see their soul.

Green: And basically I develop a goddamn phobia about mirrors because I don't wanna see the horror of another person's soul- or mine.

Renny: Exactly! But in this case, you don't have a phobia because it's basically the only way you can tell people's futures and attempt- and fail- to make money. It's also a massive AU so no being possessed, you were born with this thing. Disclaimer!

Green: One of these days . . . Renny doesn't own pokemon.

Renny: On with the show!

 **OOOOOO**

The fortune teller was always there, every day.

He sat there with his little box, with the old mirror he always set on top of it. A little cup was his way of holding what money he got for the fortunes he was paid for, but it rarely ever got filled beyond halfway.

He didn't wear fancy clothing.

He didn't even wear shoes.

He just wore the rags of a young man who didn't have a home and lived on the streets.

He was a homeless fortune teller who could hardly make enough money to feed himself.

Mainly because he couldn't tell people what their futures would be like. Not how you'd think, anyway.

The homeless fortune teller could only tell people how they were going to die, using that old mirror of his.

The way it worked was like this- a person sat down in front of the fortune teller, and the fortune teller held up the mirror so it was reflecting them. He then looked into the mirror, making sure he couldn't see himself, and told the person how they would die.

It was said that mirrors could show what was in a person's soul.

What most people didn't actually know was that this wasn't actually complete bullshit, it was actually true. But it was just a select few who could see the souls of anyone who was reflected in a mirror.

As you probably guessed, the young homeless fortune teller was one such person.

However, most people- if you can believe it- don't really take kindly to being told every detail of how they're going to die.

One man, a police officer, certainly didn't. The fortune teller had warned him not to go to work on a particular day, but the officer didn't listen and instead promised to send another officer to shut him down for running a scam when he _didn't_ die.

Well, today was the day that officer was going to die- and also the day that the other officer would come to shut the fortune teller down.

He watched the crowd, silent but waiting. The badly-written sign beside him said something like 'FORTUNE TOLD FOR FIFTY PENCE' although the words were slightly misspelled and the writing was so shaky you could hardly make out the words.

It was cheap, for a street fortune, but the fortune teller knew that he'd never get people to pay if the price was anything more. Though he didn't get much, as stated before, because he didn't ask for the money before the fortunes.

Finally, he saw a police officer walking down the street towards him. The fortune teller sat back and waited for the man to finally stop in front of him.

"Are you the Teller of Death?" the police officer asked.

"Is that what I'm called?" the fortune teller replied calmly.

"Well, you've got a mirror . . . and apparently the Teller of Death uses a mirror to tell people when and how they're going to die."

"That's me." the fortune teller confirmed.

The police officer nodded and folded his arms, looking down at the homeless fortune teller sternly.

"You realise that, without a licence, you're breaking the law by being here?" the man asked.

"Mm."

"So . . . I could arrest you for this."

The fortune teller just shrugged. "If I had the money for a licence, I wouldn't be doing this in the first place. Hell, I wouldn't even be on the streets."

"Maybe." the police officer murmured. He looked less sure of himself now, but he had a job to do- the fortune teller knew this, and he held no grudges against the man for it.

"Sit down." the fortune teller invited. "Maybe I can tell your future."

"You mean my death." the police officer scoffed. "You tried to con Carlson into believing that he's gonna die today. It hasn't happened yet, so I guess this really is all fake."

The fortune teller shrugged again and gestured to the police officer's radio. "Check your walkie-talkie."

" . . . What?"

"Your walkie-talkie. Radio. Check it." the fortune teller said.

The police officer stared at him for a few seconds, and then slowly pulled out his radio. He turned it on, and froze when he heard the news.

 _"-officer down, I repeat, officer down! Officer Carlson has been shot, requesting backup immediately-"_

The police officer put away the radio and stared down at the fortune teller in stunned silence.

"You better go." the homeless man told him. "Not every future is set in stone. I remember his death has a few different paths- if you go now, you could set him on a path that leads to him living."

The officer gaped for a couple of moments, but then common sense overrode him and he dashed off as fast as he could.

The fortune teller turned back to his mirror and waited for the next customer.

 **oooo**

Two days later, the police officer came back. This time, he didn't look like he wanted to shut down the homeless fortune teller's not-very-good business.

" . . . You were right." the officer said, sounding stunned. "Carlson . . ."

"Did he die?" the fortune teller bluntly asked.

The police officer went defensive. "No, of course not!" he snapped. "He's alive!"

"I was only asking." the fortune teller said, shrugging. "Is he in the hospital?"

" . . . The bullet only grazed his heart, so he isn't dead." the officer explained, when he'd calmed down enough. "It was only thanks to you that anyone had any warning at all."

"You don't need to thank me."

"I wasn't going to." the officer said, voice suddenly turning sharp. "I still think this is some sort of con, though I'm not sure how."

"You ever considered that maybe it's real?" the fortune teller asked curiously.

"No, because I don't believe in this supernatural bullshit." the police officer told him. He paused for a moment, and then sighed. " . . . You said you'd tell my future. Is the offer still open?"

"I'm surprised you want me to." the fortune teller answered, as the officer sat himself down on the concrete.

"Don't push your luck, I'm only doing this because I'm curious." the officer scoffed. "Is there any special ritual you need for this?"

"No ritual." the fortune teller said. "I just need to look at your reflection in the mirror, so if you'll hold still for a few moments . . ."

The police officer, still doubtful and probably thinking how stupid this whole thing was, sat as still as he could while the fortune teller steadied the mirror to stand up where it could reflect just him and not the teller himself.

The fortune teller looked at the police officer's reflection for a while, and tilted his head curiously.

"Well . . . you're an interesting man, Red Stevenson." he eventually said.

The police officer- Red- jumped, startled.

"How do you know my name?" he demanded. "I don't carry a damn tag around with me."

"I'd like to point out my profession." the fortune teller dryly replied. "I heard your name being yelled in several of your deaths."

"Several?"

"You, sir, have many different paths you could take. It seems like the way you die can't actually be decided. In one circumstance, it's a peaceful death surrounded by those you love- you're an old man, dying of old age." the fortune teller murmured. "In another, it is what you could call a 'blaze of glory'. A gunfight, to be specific. Another one, you're saving children from a bomb threat, and die trying to shield a little girl from the blast. She lives, by the way. Traumatised and ever thankful for the man who gave his life for her, but she lives. And then there's-"

"Stop." Red snapped, holding out a hand. " . . . You . . . You can tell all that from looking into a _mirror_?"

The fortune teller hardly reacted to the sceptic and doubtful tone. He was used to it in his line of work.

"Mirrors are said to be able to show your soul." the fortune teller said. "Most people can't see this. I can, and I use that to see how a person can die."

"That's a bit fucked up." Red huffed. "Why not use it to see someone's _actual_ future, like if they're going to find love or something?"

"Love is slightly irrelevant to a person who will die fairly soon, don't you think?" the fortune teller asked.

Red paused and frowned. He didn't seem to have a response to that.

"I only warn people of their deaths." the fortune teller continued. "Some live a long and peaceful life, dying when they grow old and surrounded by those they love- or occasionally alone, because they're such grumpy people that no one can stand them. Until they die, and then they were the kindest man or woman on the planet. Others, however, have different paths."

" . . . Like?" Red asked, curious despite himself.

The fortune teller looked at the crowd briefly, and saw a few people he recognised.

"That man there." he said, pointing to a young man in an expensive suit. "He came to me last week, and I warned him about crossing the road today, three hours from now. He's wearing the exact same suit, same hairstyle . . . right now I think he's going back to work- it's his lunch break, maybe. In three hours work will end for him, and he'll be walking back home. He won't make it back. He'll be run over on that road down there, and he'll die before the ambulance gets here."

Red was gaping at him now. Most likely he hadn't expected so much detail about a single person's death, nor would he have expected the fortune teller to even remember so much detail.

"You . . . you can remember that much about him?" the police officer gasped. "You didn't just pick out some random man, did you?"

"Why would I?" the fortune teller asked.

"To prove it." Red tried to explain. "You know, to prove that you really can see a person's death."

"I'd never lie about someone's death. I didn't lie about Carlson's. My warning helped to save him."

"Then help that man!" Red exclaimed.

The fortune teller shook his head. "There are some deaths which can be avoided, and others that cannot. No matter what happens between now and three hours from now, he will die- even if he decides to cross a different road. The same truck will still hit him, and he will still die. Carlson's death had several different paths. He could have died from that bullet wound, bled out because no other officer- except for you- was nearby. He could have been shot again, saving his partner from a hidden gun-man. Instead, he was saved, because you went and helped them instead of staying here to arrest me for no reason."

By now, Red looked incredibly guilty.

"It . . . it wouldn't have been for no reason . . ." he muttered, sounding unsure of himself. "What you're doing is technically illegal. You don't have-"

"-a licence, I know." the fortune teller agreed. "And had you actually arrested me a couple of days ago, Carlson would not be alive."

Red sighed and stood up.

"I'd better go now." he said. "I've stayed for far too long, there are people who might need help . . ."

"Like Carlson?"

The officer winced and walked off, disappearing into the passing crowds.

 **oooo**

Red came back a few days later. The fortune teller hadn't really been expecting him, after all this and the conversation they had last time he'd been there, but the officer still came back.

"So . . . have you ever had an old person come to you?" Red asked.

"An old person?"

The officer nodded, shifting uncomfortably on the ground. It couldn't have been very nice for someone who was used to sitting on cushioned seats or whatever, but the fortune teller was used to it and didn't bother to make a comment.

"Like someone who wanted to know how they were gonna die, but they were old and just wanted to know if they were gonna die peacefully." Red clarified.

The fortune teller thought for a few moments, looking at his mirror.

"There was an old lady who's going to die this Saturday." he eventually replied slowly. "She came to me last month, and wanted to be reassured that she won't die alone."

"And . . . will she?" Red asked quietly.

"Yes. But there are actually two paths for her to take." the fortune teller explained, tapping his fingers on the box in front of him. "One, where she dies alone, in her sleep- peacefully- and isn't found until the next morning by a cleaner. The other, where she tries to avert this future and has a person with her at all times, and therefore doesn't die alone. Which path do you think she decided to take?"

"The second one." Red asnwered, and was surprised when the fortune teller shook his head. "But . . . who wants to die alone?"

"Originally, she didn't want to." the fortune teller said. "But I told her that if she did die with someone by her side, her funeral would be a time of sadness and tears. That's not what she wants her funeral to be- she wants people to celebrate her life and remember her fondly. If she dies with someone by her side, she'll have a sad funeral. If she dies alone, she will have a happy funeral. She wants a happy one, so she has chosen the path where she dies alone."

"You saw all that?" Red whispered.

"Yes. It's rare, but sometimes I can push my abilities to see beyond a person's death, to see how it affects those around them." the fortune teller told him. "I'm not always sure how the different paths can come into play, like with this one- I don't know why the type of funeral the old lady has is affected by how she dies. But I know there are different paths, and I know the direct consequences of them."

"You said I have several deaths." Red remembered, frowning. "What exactly does that mean, then? In one, you said I die as an old man. In another, you told me I die in a gunfight. And then the third one was something about a bomb?"

"You're special, it seems." the fortune teller said, shrugging. "Your life has a lot of different paths it could take, which are largely affected by those around you, and your own conscious decisions. The one where you die an old man is likely a result of you deciding to stop being so reckless. The gunfight one is something about a riot that'll happen in a few years. The bomb one, a terrorist attack that might not even happen if the riot- which is set in motion because of the death of a young black boy who does nothing wrong- does happen."

"Were there anymore?"

"Yes, but you cut me off before I could speak." the fortune teller answered, amused. "But there are too many paths for your life to take, and it could possibly take all week just to get through the majority of them."

"Well . . . that's not helpful at all." Red muttered. He blinked, and seemed to realise something. "I almost forgot!"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a few fifty pence coins, setting them on the box next to the mirror.

"Here." he said. "Three of them are for the fortunes you gave me, and the last one is from Carlson. He's kind of . . . well, he definitely believes you've got some sort of ability. He's basically said that if anyone tries to shut you down, he'll make their lives hell and set you back up here even if he gets fired for it."

"And people listen to him?" the fortune teller asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, sort of. He's nice, but he can be really scary when he wants to be."

"Very well then. Tell him I said thank you, this might actually get me dinner for once." the fortune teller said. He took the four coins and put then into his cup, which had been empty up until now.

 **oooo**

Despite Red being a police officer, the fortune teller saw him a lot over the next few weeks. Sometimes the man asked for his services, and always gave him fifty pence- even when the death the fortune teller told him about that time wasn't exactly one most would want to hear.

Sometimes Red just sat down and talked.

Every time Red visited, he brought the fortune teller something to eat- the homeless man wasn't sure why, but it could have been something to do with his comment a few weeks ago, about finally getting dinner.

Maybe Red didn't want to see him starve to death.

"Here, hope you like pancakes." Red said, one afternoon.

He handed the fortune teller a bag with hot food in it.

"I haven't had pancakes in years." the fortune teller replied, already digging in. "Where did you get these ones from?"

"McDonald's, if you can believe it." Red chuckled. "If you want some syrup or whatever next time, just ask. I'm not sure what you like."

"I'm not sure what syrup is." the fortune teller retorted.

The next time Red came, with syrup on top of the pancakes, the fortune teller decided he loved syrup.

He'd been eating far better than most homeless people would, and he was fully aware of that- so if he sometimes left half of his food to be 'eaten later', Red didn't comment on it.

The fortune teller wasn't sure why Red kept on coming back. It was nice to have someone to talk to, someone who wasn't a customer- well, kind of- and someone who wasn't also homeless (though they didn't often bother to talk to the fortune teller either).

But he did wonder.

Did Red maybe have a wife and kids at home? Was he visiting the fortune teller instead of being with them?

In the path where Red had died an old man, the fortune teller hadn't recognised anyone who could have been his wife or children or anything like that. Then again, he hadn't recognised anyone _period_ , so for all he knew there could have been someone there like that.

 **oooo**

The customer- a big man with big muscles but certainly not a big brain- predictably got mad at the fortune teller.

"You say I'm dead in the next hour?" he growled.

"No, I told you that you're _possibly_ going to die in an hour." the fortune teller calmly corrected him. "Don't take your shortcut today."

As the fortune teller expected, this only got the big man angrier.

"You wanna say that again, punk?" the big man hissed, leaning over the box threateningly.

The fortune teller didn't even blink.

"I'm only warning you." he said.

"Yeah? Well, I don't need no fuckin' warning from some homeless idiot who thinks he's got the sixth sense. Drunk-ass _bitch_." the big man snapped, looking triumphant at his insult.

"You realise bitch is another term for a dog?" the fortune teller asked flatly. "I can assure you, I am no dog. Though I wouldn't mind being one."

"Why, so you can whore yourself around more?" the big man sneered.

"I beg your pardon?" the fortune teller deadpanned.

"Don't think I don't know nothin'." the big man whispered, grinning smugly. "You sit 'ere with your damn mirror and your little scam in the day, and then at night you go 'round and get fucked up the ass for a pretty penny or two."

"I'm no whore."

"The fuck you're not." the big man snapped. "I just want you to know- I'm fuckin' onto you. You scammin' little slut!"

The big man suddenly reared up and punched the side of the fortune teller's head.

He had no chance to react, and was picked up and then slammed into the wall. People walking by stopped to watch but made no move to help out- and why should they? A homeless man being beaten up was of no concern to them, after all.

"Go on then, admit it." the big man whispered into his ear. "Admit that you're just some common street whore."

"If I was, do you think I'd be on the streets?" the fortune teller choked out.

"Big mouthed motherfuckin'-"

"HEY!"

But there was one person who would care.

Red pushed through the crowd that had gathered, and grabbed the big man's shoulder in a tight grip.

"Let him go." Red said firmly. "Or I'll arrest you for assult."

"Fuckin' arrest this bitch for runnin' a scam!" the big man snapped back.

"There's no confirmed proof that it is a scam. Put. Him. Down." Red ordered.

The big man didn't react for a few moments.

The crowd watched in silence as he growled, and then let the fortune teller go. He collapsed to the ground and pulled himself up, only to find Red helping him.

"You alright?" he asked quietly.

The fortune teller only nodded. He didn't dare speak to Red with all these people watching.

"If I see you again, whore . . ." the big man said, getting the fortune teller's- and Red's- attention. "I'll fuck you up, and Mister Star Officer there won't be around to help you."

He kicked the box and the mirror fell to the floor, and then he stomped on it as hard as he could, grinding his foot into the shards.

The fortune teller flinched at the sound of breaking glass, and the big man laughed- sneering- and walked away without another word. The crowd parted to let him through, but didn't make a sound beyond a few uneasy murmurs.

"Man, what a goddamn dick." Red said viciously. "If Gold was here, he'd have kicked that guy's ass . . . lucky he wasn't, he's already been warned."

" . . . You . . . didn't have to help." the fortune teller mumbled. "These people will think less of you for this."

"If they think I'm just gonna leave someone to be beaten up just because they're a hobo, they've got another thing coming." Red retorted. He stood up and looked around at the crowd. "Show's over, you selfish cowards. Get moving."

A few of them glared at the insult, but they all soon cleared off when Red's gaze grew more intense. Eventually the passing crowds became its' usual hustle, and Red turned back to the fortune teller.

"C'mon, let's get you up." Red sighed, reaching down to help.

The fortune teller reluctantly took his hand, and stood up. He looked down at his broken mirror, and somehow felt a little piece of himself die.

He'd used that mirror for years. Now it was broken, all because of some idiot who didn't want to hear his warning.

He wasn't ever gonna find another one in such perfect condition either. People didn't throw out good mirrors, they threw out broken and shattered ones. And the fortune teller needed an unbroken mirror for his ability to actually work.

"Don't think there'll be any fixing that." Red said, glancing down as well. "Do you want a new one?"

The fortune teller looked up at him, shocked.

"You- . . . you already give me food on a regular basis." he said shakily. "I can't make you pay for a new mirror too."

"What do you mean, 'make' me?" Red grinned. "I want to. And it's not like people throw out good mirrors anyway, so it might be ages before you get a new one. Come on, I'll take you down to the station- we've got our own doctor there, she won't mind seeing to you."

"If . . . you're sure . . ."

The fortune teller didn't really own anything else besides his broken mirror (and even that didn't count, he'd just found it in a rubbish bin a few years ago), so he just followed Red without bothering to pick anything up.

He even left the sign behind, because he could always make a new one- or tell people the price if they didn't storm off straight after he did what he was supposed to do.

The police station was about half an hour away, which led the fortune teller to wonder why Red came so far just to see him almost every day. It was obviously out of his way.

The people in the station- other officers, people working at the front desk, and so on- turned to look as Red led the fortune teller through to the back. Normally the fortune teller wouldn't care, but this was incredibly uncomfortable. It felt like he was being led to his execution or something.

"Hey, Red!" someone shouted.

Red and the fortune teller turned to see a man rushing over to them. He stopped short of slamming straight into them, and looked at the fortune teller curiously.

"You finally arrested him then?" the officer asked. "Wondered when you would, Carlson's not really making much noise about little Fortune anymore."

"I haven't arrested him, Gold." Red explained. Or tried to.

"The fuck? Why not?" Gold demanded. "He's running a scam, ain't he? Told Carlson he was gonna die- and he didn't!"

"And if it fucking wasn't for him, Carlson _would_ be dead." Red snapped. "Doesn't Crys have anything for you to do?"

"Nah, she's on lunch break." Gold shrugged. "But if you ain't arresting him, how come he's looking so beat up?"

"Jack." Red said, which apparently explained everything because Gold winced and looked at the fortune teller with some concern.

"Fortune's still walking." he said. "Lucky break. Last guy to get beaten up by Jack didn't really live."

"What?" the fortune teller gasped, and then flinched back. He wasn't even supposed to be here, what right did he have to speak?

But Gold didn't really seem that bothered.

"Yep, you got lucky, dude." Gold grinned, and patted the fortune teller's shoulder. "Red's basically the only fucking officer that prick listens to. You taking Fortune to see Yellow?"

"Yeah- and then maybe we should probably set him up somewhere else, Jack kind of threatened him." Red sighed. "That guy needs to go into anger management, seriously."

"Fuck, I know right?" Gold agreed, and then wandered off.

The fortune teller watched him for a few moments, and then turned to look at Red.

"Fortune?" he asked.

"What- oh, right!" Red exclaimed. "Yeah, we don't really know what the hell your actual name is, and you never told me . . . Fortune was really the only thing that fit. No one here wanted to call you the Teller of Death, especially after you helped save Carlson. Some people might not believe it, but they do believe that you helped somehow. So, we called you Fortune instead."

" . . . Oh." the fortune teller said, blinking.

He'd honestly expected Red to not even mention him at all, really.

But then, he supposed, people would notice who he was going to visit on a daily basis. It wasn't exactly hard to miss, after all.

The doctor- who was actually called Yellow- was more than happy to see to him.

She had him sit on a table which was more comfortable than it looked like, and carefully treated the bruises that had turned up within the several minutes.

"Does this hurt?" Yellow asked, gently prodding the place where the big man had first hit him.

"Ow. Yes." the fortune teller told her.

"Good, I've seen what Jack can do it's never a good sign if you can't feel anything." Yellow informed him. "Any pain in your back?"

"It kind of aches." the fortune teller admitted.

"Getting slammed into a wall does that." Red snarked, and the fortune teller glared at him.

He was there for a few more minutes, with Yellow giving him some pills for the pain.

And then came the one thing he was kind of dreading at this point.

"I'll need your name and address, just in case." Yellow said, completely obvlivious to the fortune teller's uneasiness and Red's sudden spike in interest.

" . . . Uh . . ."

Yellow looked at him. "Don't be difficult." she said, suddenly sounding less friendly and more stern. "If I don't know your name I won't know who I'm calling for if I do a checkup on you. Tell me your name and adress."

The fortune teller looked at her defiantly for a few seconds, but then deflated.

" . . . Green." the fortune teller murmured. "My name is Green."

"Hah!" Red exclaimed. "Now we don't have to call your Fortune anymore!"

Green glared at him, and he wisely shut up.

"And where do you live, Green?" Yellow asked, bringing them back to the original subject.

Green hesitated on that one too.

"Green." Yellow said. "I already told you, don't be-"

"Nowhere." Green interrupted. "I don't live anywhere."

Yellow blinked, and looked at him like she was seeing him for the first time.

" . . . That certainly explains everything." she murmured.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Green flatly asked her.

"The smell. Also your lack of shoes. And the horrible condition of your clothing. You're homeless." Yellow said.

Green didn't look at her.

"This is the first time I've seen you actually upset about this." Red blinked.

"I'm in a clean place filled with clean people who all think I'm a fraud, what do you expect?" Green snapped at him. "I've been upset the moment I walked through that door!"

" . . . Red, you should have taken me to him." Yellow turned around, scolding the officer. "You know damn well how people in his situation feel about people like us, it's better if we treat them where they're comfortable!"

"But I don't even know where the hell he sleeps!" Red exclaimed. "How was I meant to take you to him? Besides, I couldn't leave him- Jack threatened to attack him when I'm not around!"

"In that case, you can just stay together." Yellow said, as if that solved everything.

Both Green and Red had their misgivings about that. But for very different reasons.

"What? He can't stay with me, I don't have the room!" Red exclaimed.

"He wouldn't want me stinking up his house." Green said.

Red glanced at him. "Fortune- no, wait, Green. I don't really live in a house, it's . . . basically just a flat." he explained. "I wouldn't mind letting you stay there- really, I wouldn't- but I just don't have the room."

"Bullshit." Yellow snapped. "Your bed's big enough for two, and he could always sleep on the sofa."

"But-"

"Red. He's your friend, isn't he?"

Red glanced at Green, and nodded qwithout hesitation. Green was shocked.

"So what's the problem?" Yellow demanded.

"It's just . . . I'm used to being alone." Red sighed. "No one else has been in my flat since . . ."

Yellow blinked slowly, and then nodded.

Green looked between them, confused. Had there been a previous flatmate? Had they died, and that was why Red didn't want to have Green in there? Maybe he was too scared.

Sometimes Green kind of wished his ability didn't just allow him to see a person's death. If he had different abilities, maybe he'd be able to see into a person's past or future- but he couldn't.

"I think having Green in your flat could help you." Yellow told Red gently. "Maybe he'll stink the place up, and he's most likely got no clue how to keep himself clean . . ."

"Hey." Green frowned.

"What? It's true. You're probably one of those people who've never been able to grow a beard, so you don't know how to shave or anything. Look, just take him home with you, Red." Yellow sighed, tired of trying to explain herself. "He's homeless anyway- why not give him a place to stay, somewhere that's actually safe?"

"Well . . . Green? What do you want to do?" Red asked. "I'll only say yes if you're interested. I mean, this is mostly to just make sure you're not alone . . . you know, in case Jack turns up again."

Green tilted his head and watched him for a while.

He didn't know to answer. Should he say yes, and gain a home- a place to sleep? A safe place to return to, if he ever left? Or should he say no, and have life continue as it always had? Only with the danger of being cornered by Jack hanging over his head.

It was actually kind of obvious once he thought about it.

"Alright." he sighed. "Just don't expect me to be able to adjust straight away. I haven't slept in a clean place for years."

"Don't worry, I'll come by daily to check up on you." Yellow promised. "I'll help you with basic hygiene and all that."

"Who says I don't know that myself?"

Yellow looked at him.

" . . . Fine, I don't." Green muttered.

"Congratulations Red," Yellow said, turning to the police officer. "You've got yourself a new flatmate. Look after him or else."

"Y-yes ma'am." Red said quickly.

 **OOOOOO**

Renny: I'm not sure whether or not I should make this into a fanfic . . .

Green: It's probably a bad idea.

Renny: I know but I wanna write some porn for it.

Green: That's probably an even worse idea.

Renny: Whatever. I'll just basically see how other people react to this, if they like it enough I'll try and write another chapter for it- if the general air of reviews basically gets summed up to 'wow this was good but I'm not that arsed' I won't bother with a second chapter. Read and review, and if you want a second chapter, you'd better gimme a damn good reason.


	2. Chapter 2

Renny: Okay so people who said make a second chapter- haha I kinda already decided I was gonna do it anyway.

Green: You decided literally while you were trying to fucking sleep, that doesn't count so you can't be smug about it.

Renny: Fine whatever. I kept getting ideas for this fic, so in the end I just decided 'fuck it, I'm making this a fic'. So there we go, and you people can have some porn as well. Just not right this second, I need to write some other shit for this chapter before we get into the porn, okay?

Green: Don't worry, she really wants to write the porn, so she's just as impatient as you lot are.

Renny: That I am. I'll probably write the porn bit as soon as I can, really. Disclaimer!

Green: Renny doesn't own pokemon.

Renny: On with the show!

 **OOOOOO**

Red's flat was kind of big, as far as Green was concerned. By anyone else's standards, it would have been sort of small- the hallway had three doors which led into the bedroom, living room and shoe cupboard respectively.

The living room had two doors. One, obviously, led out to the hallway, and the other led to the kitchen.

The bedroom also had two doors, only one was kind-of-double and was made from glass, leading out onto the balcony which Red seemed to think was a minuture garden or something. The second door in the bedroom led to the bathroom.

Of course, Green didn't know all this when he walked in through the front door. Red gave him the tour (albeit short) later on.

"So . . . welcome to my home." Red said, gesturing grandly in the most sarcastic manner on the planet. "Doesn't look like much, but I spend most money on rent and, well, police shit."

"It . . . certainly is interesting." Green replied, glancing at a picture on the wall. It was some sort of child-like drawing.

Green wasn't sure if that meant Red had kids or not. Maybe the police officer was just a bad drawer, but thought it would be funny to put up a picture he'd drawn anyway.

"I don't really know why that's still up . . ." Red muttered awkwardly, shuffling over to pull the picture down. He placed it gently on a nearby box of drawers, which had a phone on top. "Ah-hem. So. For- Green. Uh. I'm sorry, I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to say."

"You already said welcome." Green offered, and Red laughed nervously.

"Guess so . . . how about we go into the living room, I can give you the tour later on." Red suggested, pointing to a seemingly random door.

"Sure." Green agreed.

Red took him through the door and into the living room. Surprisingly enough, it was literally just a sofa, armchair, TV and a coffee table. He hadn't really known what he'd been expecting though, maybe some sort of . . . fancy thing?

Well. Again, compared to what Green was used to, this _was_ fancy.

They sat down on the sofa, and Green was suddenly aware of how dirty and smelly he was in comparison to basically everything in sight.

" . . . Perhaps I should clean up first." Green murmured. "You put up with me for the past few weeks, but only because we were on the streets. We aren't now."

"No, we're not . . . but do you even know how to use a shower?" Red asked him.

Green looked at him. "You . . . uh . . . no. I could work a bath, probably." he admitted.

"I don't really have one, actually . . ." Red sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Uh, if you don't mind . . . maybe I could just stick around to help you clean up? I mean, Yellow did kind of make me swear to look after you."

Green looked at him for a few moments. There didn't seem to be any ulterior motives to his offer, and he had agreed to allow Green to stay here . . .

" . . . Alright." he said. "Where is your shower, anyway?"

As stated before, the bathroom door was in the bedroom.

The bedroom was kind of bare as well. It was just a bed and a cupboard, and a bedside table. A few pictures were on the walls, some of them child-like drawings just like the one in the hallway. Green didn't point them out, because, well, they were kind of cute.

The bathroom was kind of small, and even Green could admit this freely. But there was enough room for two people to walk around in comfortably though, and once Green stepped into the shower, he no longer felt like he had to dodge out of Red's way.

Well. Okay, maybe there kind of wasn't enough room- or maybe it was just Red.

"We didn't really have enough time to swing by Ruby's on the way here, and it's almost half ten . . ." Red muttered, almost to himself. "So there's really no clothes that could fit you. Sorry."

"That's alright." Green assured him. "I can just put these ones back on again-"

"No way." Red said firmly. "You're gonna be living with me from now on, so that means you don't have to wander around in clothes you've probably never taken off for years. You can borrow some of mine, and then . . . well, I'll book you an appointment at Ruby's tomorrow. Hopefully the phone number's still the right one . . ."

Green had no idea who this Ruby was, or why a phone number would be so confusing that Red couldn't tell if it was the right one or not.

"Ruby changes phones a lot to keep up with the trends, or something." Red explained, upon seeing Green's expression. "He's . . . well, he makes the stereotypical gay person look like the most manliest thing on the planet."

" . . . I . . . I'm not certain if I understood that . . ." Green admitted slowly.

"Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough. Okay, c'mon, let's get you cleaned up!"

Getting cleaned up apparently consisted of stripping down and being attacked by a sudden burst of freezing cold water.

It took several re-tries, and a few screamed curses at Red (Green would later apologise for that, but for now he really, really wanted to rip his throat out), but eventually the water wasn't too cold or too hot, and Green was actually able to stand without worrying if the water was suddenly gonna turn evil.

"Water can't be evil, Green." Red told him, handing over a sponge and some soap. "Here, rub the soap into the sponge- that's it- and then rub the sponge over your body."

Green looked at Red.

" . . . I'm already looking at you naked, I don't really care if I see you washing." Red pointed out.

"Fair enough." Green said.

And he actually helped out as well, which was kind of weird- but Green more or less just ignored the awkward feeling because he was finally, _finally_ , getting clean for the first time in who knows how long.

Washing his hair was a chore because he hadn't combed it in ages either.

"Ow- ow!" Green yelped, as Red accidently tugged too hard.

"Sorry." the other man said, wincing. "Okay, I don't think just tugging is working, we might need to just sort of massage it out . . ."

"You have no idea about the implications of this situation." Green flatly told him.

"I do now." Red muttered, his face turning the colour of his namesake.

It took nearly an hour to get Green cleaned to the point where he no longer looked like a street begger to just someone who hadn't really had a shower or bath in the last few days, and his hair took a bit longer because, well, it was dirty as hell and knotted in way too many places.

But eventually they managed it, and while Green dried himself off with a towel (thank god he knew how to use one of those, otherwise this would be even more embarrassing) Red wandered out to the bedroom to get some clothes.

Green sort of doubted that they'd even fit him. Nevermind that he was practically a skeleton (even the last few weeks of being fed regularly by Red hadn't helped much), Red was kind of massive.

He was broad in the shoulders, and far taller than Green was. Any clothes he had would probably just hang off Green.

Red came back in with a black t-shirt and some grey trousers.

"I'm not sure if the trousers are even gonna fit." Red said, handing them to Green. "I'm not too worried about the shirt, it's got a small neck. I suppose if the trousers don't fit I could try asking Ruby to come to us . . ."

"Who is this Ruby?" Green asked, pulling on the shirt. "You keep mentioning him, but I have no clue who he is."

"He's basically the best tailor in the entire city." Red grinned. "His clothes _never_ rip, and he even makes bullet-proof clothing for the police force."

"Ruby sounds like an amazing person."

"He is, when he's not screaming at us for using his clothes during raids . . ."

The trousers actually didn't fit at all, and kept falling down. It was lucky the shirt was long- on Green anyway- so it covered up anything that the trousers would have done.

They weren't sure what to do about underwear, so Green just put on his own, ignoring Red's protests.

"Do you want me walking around with literally nothing but an oversized t-shirt on?" Green dryly asked him.

"Uh . . . no, not . . . not really."

"Well then."

Dinner was a lot better than the shower, despite the fact that Green wasn't actually wearing any trousers.

Red didn't actually have a cooker, because he mostly just ate out- but he couldn't exactly take Green somewhere like McDonald's or KFC when he wasn't wearing anything on his legs. Or feet, since Green didn't own any shoes and Red's didn't fit him.

He did, however, have a microwave which he used to cook a shop-bought lasagne for Green, and something else which Green didn't recognise for himself.

"It's called cottage pie." Red explained, sitting down on the sofa next to Green.

" . . . Why?"

"I don't actually know." Red glanced at the cottage pie, blinking a couple of times. "I never really questioned it."

"It doesn't exactly look like a pie." Green told him, prodding the side of the plastic container. "So how, exactly, is this a pie?"

"I don't know. Look, just eat your lasagne and then we can wonder why it's called a cottage pie later, okay?"

But it didn't make sense . . . why was it a pie if it wasn't a pie? Green kind of wanted to find out, but he was kind of afraid that if he asked, Red would just get mad at him and kick him out.

And then maybe he would be some common street whore, because, let's face it, without a mirror his abilities wouldn't work and he wouldn't be able to make money any other way.

" . . . Green?"

Green glanced up, and suddenly realised that he'd been sitting there and he hadn't touched the lasagne.

"Do you know how to use a fork, or are you . . . just thinking about something?" Red asked him gently.

"I guess . . . both." Green mumbled. "I've forgotten how to use a fork . . . and I . . ."

"What is it?"

" . . . If . . . if you get mad at me . . . would you kick me out, back onto the streets?" Green hesitantly asked. He didn't dare look at Red now, he didn't want to see the realisation that he'd figured it out in Red's face.

"Of course not!" Red exclaimed, and Green was so surprised he actually looked up. "Even if Yellow hadn't basically forced me, I would have let you stay here eventually anyway. I'm not gonna throw you out just because you've pissed me off or something- besides, I already kind of know you. Sure, I only learned your name recently, but I've known you for weeks. I think I'm used to you by now. You and your sarcasm."

Green was too stunned to reply. All he could do was stare at Red speechlessly.

"Here, I'll show you how to use your fork." Red offered.

 **oooo**

Red called Ruby after they had dinner, and Green could hear Ruby's excited voice from the living room- he was speaking that loudly the words could be made out clearly.

The conversation lasted several minutes, because this was a home visit and Ruby was going to have to measure Green then and there.

"So, he's coming tomorrow morning?" Green asked, when Red came back in.

"How did you- wait, Ruby speaks too loud on the phone, haha." Red laughed. "Yeah, he is. I'll have to call the chief so I can have the morning off, it might take a while . . ."

"You don't have to take time off work to look after me." Green said, looking at his hands. "I'm fine with being left on my own."

"It's alright." Red shrugged, sitting down. "I already talked it over with him, he's fine with me doing this. He understands."

" . . . He . . . sounds very nice." Green mumbled.

"Most of the time he's just your normal boss." Red chuckled. "Really straight-forward, doesn't take shit or excuses . . . but even he knows the danger you're in, if you stay on the streets any longer. And he also knows that you need some time to adjust to this, so he's given me permission to take as much time off as I feel I need to, to help you. This is only good for three or four weeks, though. It's back to business as usual after that."

"Oh . . . well then." Green twitched a little, embarrassed at all the help he was getting. "Tell him I said thank you. For the kindness he's showing. And, well, thank you to you for your own kindness. Not many people would care."

"No big deal." Red grinned. "If the situation was reversed, maybe you'd do the same for me."

"Maybe." Green murmured.

He wasn't actually sure how he would react if the situation was reversed. Would he let Red stay with him? Would he turn him away?

Who knows. But right now, Green was just grateful that Red was as kind as he was dedicated to his job.

That night, after Red had called the station to inform them of him taking the morning off to help Green with Ruby (Red was under the impression that, unless you were used to him, you couldn't deal with Ruby on your own), Green found himself feeling uncomfortably . . . comfortable.

He was given a blanket and pillow, and was sleeping on the sofa- because even if Red's bed was big enough, he wasn't going to push his luck that far.

But after years of sleeping on literally anything (and sometimes _in_ anything), Green was uncomfortable.

He couldn't settle down on the sofa. It was warm, and it was nice, and anyone else would have been glad for it, but he just couldn't.

Eventually, after spending nearly an hour trying to settle down and failing epically, Green gave up and decided to try sleeping on the floor.

Yet even that didn't help. There was something else he was missing. The floor was better, for him, but there was something else.

 _I know what it is,_ Green realised. _I'm not used to sleeping alone either._

There had always been some living being nearby. Whether it was a dog, or a cat, or some other homeless person looking for a bit of human company at night (not in that way), there had always been someone nearby.

He had an idea.

It hopefully wasn't exactly pushing his luck, because he wasn't exactly gonna ask to sleep in Red's bed.

He carefully knocked on the bedroom door, pillow and blanket tucked under one arm.

"Mmph . . . yeah?" Red called through the door.

"Can . . . Do you mind if I come in?" Green asked.

"Uh, sure."

He opened the door and went inside, closing it behind him.

"What is it?" Red asked, sitting up in bed. He wasn't wearing a shirt. "You alright, Fortune? Green, sorry."

"You can call me Fortune if you want." Green shrugged. "Um . . . I can't really sleep. I'm aware that this sounds . . . entirely ungrateful, but the sofa . . ."

"Too comfortable, right?" Red guessed.

"Yes." Green mumbled.

"And . . . you're used to being around others, when you sleep?" Red went on, tilting his head a little.

Green nodded, hiding his face.

"I . . . would you mind if I slept in here?" he asked quietly. "On the floor. If . . . if you don't mind."

"I don't." Red said softly. "Don't worry, I don't mind. Like I said, you're gonna need some time to adjust. No one can go from being homeless to suddenly living in a flat just like that. Hell, if you wanted to sleep with me, I wouldn't mind."

They both paused and looked at each other.

"That came out wrong." Red said.

"Yes, yes it did." Green agreed. "I think I'll go to sleep and try to ignore the hormonal police officer sleeping in the bed . . ."

"Oi." Red grinned.

And strangely enough, Green slept pretty well.

He was aware of Red's snoring, but he was used to louder things anyway, and hearing Red snore reassured him that another living being was nearby. And the floor wasn't exactly as comfortable as the sofa, but it was sort of normal for him.

At least he had the pillow, though.

It was a nice thing, fluffy and blue. When he ran his hand over the fluffy pillow, he could feel it brushing the wrong way- and if he brushed it the other way, the pillow's fluff went back to normal. It was kind of amusing, really, and it kept him busy while he waited to fall asleep.

He eventually did.

The next morning, Green woke up before Red. But he didn't actually get up, deciding instead to wait just in case Red wanted to do anything first of all before dealing with the homeless guy on the floor.

Well.

Sort of homeless. Technically, he was living with Red now . . . so did that mean he wasn't homeless anymore?

Should he stop referring to himself as homeless?

He heard Red yawn, and the bedsheets shifted.

"Morning." Green said, and Red let out a loud bellow and fell off the bed.

Green stared.

"Jesus shit!" Red shouted, standing back up. He grabbed the bedsheets and covered his lower parts with them, which kind of told Green all he needed to know about the police officer's sleeping habits.

" . . . You forgot I was here, didn't you?" Green asked him, a smirk beginning to grow on his face.

"No. Yes. Shut up." Red sighed. "Okay, let's get washed . . . if we don't Ruby'll throw a fit. He's like some sort of neat freak or something. Last time I showed up looking even a little dirty . . ."

Red shuddered, and Green decided that whoever this Ruby person was, he liked him.

Ruby was apparently coming over at nine, so they had about an hour to get ready. Red didn't take much time, but since Green had no idea what to do to get ready for the whirlwind known as Ruby (Red's words), he took longer.

And like with the shower, Red had to help him.

"Yellow was right, you are one of those people who can't grow a beard." he laughed, as he helped Green wash his face properly.

"That's a good thing, because it means I don't have to stand in front of a mirror trying to shave myself." Green retorted.

" . . . I have a question." Red suddenly pulled back, stopping his assult on Green's face with the sponge. "Have you ever looked into a mirror at your own reflection? What did you see?"

"That was two questions." Green informed him.

"Don't get smart on me now." Red warned him, holding up the sponge threateningly.

Green just had to laugh at that.

"Of course I have." he said, carefully _not_ looking into the mirror nearby. "How do you think I found out about my abilities to begin with?"

"Really?"

"Yes. I looked into the mirror and I saw my . . . self . . ."

He trailed off, suddenly realising that Red wasn't looking so amused anymore.

"That can't have been nice." Red said, looking like he wanted to hug Green. "You . . . saw your own death, didn't you?"

Green looked away, at the shower. The mirror was on his other side and if he looked into it, he'd see his own death- or deaths, he wasn't sure if he had more than one path. He'd forgotten.

"Green-" Red began, but then a knock on the door startled then both. "That'd be Ruby. Uh . . . Why don't you finish up here? Cover the mirror if you want to, alright?"

He rushed off to answer the door, and Green was left standing there, stunned for the second time in less than twenty-four hours.

Green almost glanced at the mirror out of habit, but quickly caught himself- and then grabbed the towel and used it to cover the mirror. He carried on washing his face, listening to the murmuring he could hear from the front door.

Once he was done, Green took the towel off and wiped his face, being careful not to look into the mirror when he put the towel away.

He went out, into the bedroom, and peeked out from behind the bedroom door into the hallway.

There was a man with bright red eyes and what looked like white hair and a ribbon in his hair. It actually took Green a few seconds to figure out that the ribbon was attached to the hair, and the hair was actually a hat. He had a suitcase next to him.

"So, where's my newest customer?" the ruby-eyed man was asking.

"He's just cleaning up, I know how you like cleanliness." Red replied, rolling his eyes slightly.

That must be Ruby then.

Ruby nodded slightly, and then glanced at the door. He immediately noticed Green, even though he was kind of hiding, and gasped.

"Ooooh he's beautiful!" he cried, clasping his hands together joyfully. "Come on out, my little Fortune, let Ruby look at you!"

"It's alright, Green." Red called. "He's not gonna hurt you or anything."

Green swallowed and came out of the bedroom, almost flinching back when Ruby squealed.

"Ah, Ruby, tone it down a bit." Red winced.

"Oh, I'm so so sorry!" Ruby gasped, horrified. "I'll try and keep myself calm . . . but it won't be easy, look at him, he's beautiful. No wonder you call him Fortune."

"Actually, we called him Fortune because-"

Ruby just waved his hand like he couldn't care less.

"He is beautiful, I am calling him Fortune, shush now. Let me work my magic."

And work his magic he did.

It turned out Ruby didn't actually need to even measure Green, all he needed to do was just look at him. He was just that good of a tailor.

Also the oversized t-shirt on Green kind of made it obvious that his size was definitely smaller than Red's.

"Hm . . . you're not broad-shouldered like Red." Ruby mused, framing Green using his fingers. "Small frame . . ."

And it went on like that for almost half an hour, before Ruby finally had the measurements he needed. He wrote them in his notebook and made several different notes, about what material to use for the clothing.

He also reassured Green that all of this was being done for free, because first-time customers were treated like royalty. Then he went on to say that Green was also a special case because of his situation (technically homeless) so Green could have anything and he didn't have to pay for a single thing.

"Just promise me you'll wear the things I make." Ruby begged.

"I . . . don't think I'll have much choice." Green said, and Ruby practically screamed in pure joy.

Red was right, he really couldn't deal with Ruby on his own.

Ruby was nice, yeah, but he was a bit too much . . . _joy_ for Green to deal with. He almost literally fainted when Green showed him his old clothes, which Red hadn't thrown out in case they needed them for size references or whatever, and immediately demanded that Red burn the 'hideous things that offend my eyesight'.

Yes, he actually did say that.

By the time Ruby left, it was almost lunch. He'd promised that he'd be back with some clothes for Green tomorrow, which Green actually looked forward too because it meant he wouldn't have to wander around in one of Red's oversized (to him) shirts.

"Aw . . ." Red whined, looking at the time. "I've only got enough time for a quick dinner, then I gotta go . . . You gonna be alright here on your own? You remember how to work the TV and the microwave, right?"

"I'll figure it out." Green shrugged. "If I can't, I can just try some card tricks- there's a deck in the drawer, right?"

"Yeah, the top one." Red nodded. "It's the blue packet. Alright, I'll see you . . . around seven, or something. I'll call when I get out, okay?"

"Okay." Green agreed. "Bye, Red."

"See you." Red grinned, and then he went out and Green was alone.

Now . . . what button was it to turn on the TV again? The red one, right? Or was it the green one?

Oh, wait, he needed to turn it on at the wall first. He'd almost forgotten.

 **oooo**

Over the next three or four weeks, Green found himself slipping into a routine.

It became normal for him to see Yellow on a daily basis- like she'd said, she was checking up on him to see if his health or hygiene was any better than last time. Sometimes they just talked, which was fine with Green because Yellow was actually interested in his mirror abilities.

He never gave her a prediction though. Green didn't want to see her dead, she was a friend.

Ruby basically just announced that he would come over once a week, to deliver new clothes or shoes (that was a new experience, and it was taking some time to get used to), or even to just design them. He more or less told Green that any he didn't want made specially for him would be made for the shop, so the designs weren't going to waste and Green didn't have to feel guilty about saying no to some shirt he didn't like.

Gold, Red's police officer friend who seemed convinced that Green's name was actually Fortune, came by sometimes as well. Mostly he just popped up with Red, when they came back from work.

He moaned to Green about his failing love life, which was with a guy called Silver who didn't even notice him. Silver apparently worked in the detective branch. Green knew nothing about himn other than 'he has long red hair that I want to eat cus it looks like fuckin' cherries or some shit'. Oh, and he had silver eyes. But mostly the cherry hair.

Red himself fell into a routine as well- though sometimes he'd wake up and forget Green was even there. Those times, Green found great amusement in scaring the hell out of Red, because the reactions were never disappointing.

Eventually three weeks passed, and Red was no longer able to take time off work to look after Green. He didn't mind, Red's chief had been kind enough to allow him this much time off anyway.

Though it wasn't exactly fair to make Red work overtime for the time he'd taken off.

So Red was beginning to come back to his flat (Green wasn't sure if he could call it home yet), almost constantly tired and stressed. Green had finally figured out how to work the microwave, so he could heat something up for Red whenever he got back.

But he wanted to say thank you. Not just actually saying it, but . . . he wanted to do something for Red, something which said 'thank you' but wasn't just a bunch of words.

He'd considered drawing a card or something, but then realised he'd screw it up- he could barely spell or write to begin with, and drawing was out of the question because he was really bad at it.

Green couldn't cook, and besides Red didn't have a cooker anyway.

He certainly didn't have any money to buy something. And he was definitely not gonna steal something, even if it would have been the easiest way.

What? He was living with a _police officer_ , if he stole something Red wouldn't even need to investigate it, and he'd be in jail faster than he could even think of saying sorry.

Eventually the answer came to him one night, when Red stumbled onto his bed and flopped down, mumbling something about a day off.

"Day off?" Green asked, climbing onto the bed so they could have an actual conversation. "What do you mean?"

"Chief Lance gave me the day off tomorrow." Red mumbled, turning over onto his back. "Said I was working too hard- and who's fucking fault is that? He's making me work overtime . . ."

"It's not very nice of him to do that, you realise." Green said. "You could easily complain to someone."

"To who? I'm not the only officer he's made work overtime, and some people do it voluntarily." Red scoffed. "At least I get to relax tomorrow . . . hey, how do you feel about going out for dinner instead of just eating whatever's in here?"

"Where did you have in mind?"

Red shrugged. "Dunno. KFC? McDonald's has kinda gone up in price, and I know you like the spicey wings."

"I wouldn't complain if we were digging through rubbish." Green informed him.

Because it wouldn't be the first time he'd eaten from bins.

"I'd never do that." Red frowned, looking at Green. "I don't care how stressed or tired I am, I'm never making you eat something if you don't want it. And you're never eating rubbish again."

"You're stressed out again?" Green asked, shifting.

He had an idea for how to release some of Red's stress, but he had to be certain Red still had his handcuffs.

"You have no idea how nerve-wracking paperwork can be." Red muttered. He laid his head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. "I swear, I'd have preferred some damn riot or whatever. Having the chief looking over my shoulder constantly was just . . . creepy as fuck."

Green murmured sympathetically. He pulled out a black blindfold from his pocket and twisted it in his hands, making sure Red didn't see it.

"Maybe I should try and find some place that does massages . . . I could try telling them I'll arrest them if they don't gimme a free massage . . . hah, that'd make a sight. A police officer threatening a bunch of random people for a free massage . . . nah, too much effort- not to mention stress."

"It all comes back down to stress, doesn't it?" Green asked. He slid onto Red's stomach carefully, trying to make it seem like this was just another normal day.

It wasn't exactly weird, since Green sometimes laid his head on Red's lap- if he was back soon enough and wasn't too tired to watch TV or something. This was a little different, but then Red probably wasn't even aware about what Green was trying to do.

"God, I really hope it doesn't at some point." Red muttered, closing his eyes. "Sometimes I can't even get enough energy to take off my damn uniform . . ."

"Let me." Green offered. "You undress me often enough for a shower anyway, so why can't I return the favour?"

"Implications." Red murmured, smirking slightly.

That had become somewhat of a joke between them, because Red still helped Green shower. The thing was far too confusing for Green to work out.

But this time it wouldn't just be implications.

Green glanced at Red's trousers and saw the handcuffs. He checked to make sure the other man wasn't watching, and then pulled them off.

" . . . Those my keys or handcuffs?" Red asked, not even opening his eyes to check. "I seriously sometimes think my handcuffs are my keys . . ."

"Handcuffs." Green replied. "I have a question about these, actually."

"Mm?"

"How loose can these be without letting whoever is being handcuffed free?"

"What do you mean?" Red yawned.

"How tight can these be without causing pain?" Green tried to clarify.

"Enough to not let a person slip out of them . . . why? You wanna play cops and robbers?"

"Something like that." Green murmured.

He opened the handcuffs- Red had showed him how, in case something happened- and then grabbed Red's wrists.

Before the officer could even react, Green was handcuffing his wrists to the headboard.

" . . . What in the hell do you think you're doing?" Red demanded. His eyes were most certainly open now.

"Just relax." Green said.

"How am I supposed to relax when you just handcuffed me to my fucking bed?" Red hissed.

"Well, I won't leave you here while I steal your possessions." Green shrugged. "I could have easily done that while you were gone, or sleeping."

Red didn't look as tense now, but being suspicious was in his nature. If a police officer wasn't suspicious, how could they even manage to do their job properly?

Green smiled at him, and then tied the blindfold over his eyes. Instantly Red was tense again, but he couldn't do much to Green- not that he would, anyway.

Technically speaking, he could throw Green off him without the use of his arms. Green weighed far less than he did, so it would have been easy. But obviously he was curious to see- figuratively, since he was blindfolded now- where this was going.

"You're always complaining about how stressed you are, and how tired you feel all the time." Green said, shifting back so he was sitting on Red's legs instead of his stomach. "And I've been trying to come up with a way to say 'thank you' for doing all this for me."

"You don't . . . need to . . ." Red replied uncertainly. "I'd have done all this anyway . . . we're friends, right?"

"Of course." Green agreed.

He put a hand on Red's leg and started to slide it up, and smiled when Red's breath hitched. If he was gonna act like this for just simple touching, how would he react to everything else Green had planned?

His hand reached Red's groin, and he gently traced circles with his fingers over it. Red's legs trembled and he bit his lip, probably trying to keep back a moan, but Green wanted to hear noise.

After all, how could Red relieve his stress if he was holding back?

Green started to unbutton Red's trousers, and then lifted himself up so he could remove the clothing. He threw the trousers onto the floor somewhere, not really caring where, and sat back down again- and this time he could barely hold back a smug grin when he heard a small noise from Red.

He saw Red's underwear constricting his manhood- which, by the way, appeared to be as big and broad as the man himself- and decided to relieve him off those as well.

"Oh my god . . ." Red whispered, trembling, when Green pulled off his underwear and his dick sprang up in the air.

"You wish." Green retorted.

Red laughed, but he choked when Green ran a finger lightly up his length.

"Just relax." Green told him again.

"Definitely no objections here . . ." Red murmured.

Green smiled and leaned down. Red was already hard enough, but he decided to be nice and give him a small release before the main event.

He licked from the base up to the top of Red's dick, and then put his mouth on the head.

"Holy fuck!" Red gasped out, muscles tensing.

Green couldn't really reply, so instead he just lowered his head and took more of Red into his mouth. Unfortunately, Green had a gag reflex, so he couldn't swallow Red entirely- but he had hands, so why not use those as well?

"Oh my go- . . . J-just like that, oooh . . ." Red groaned.

Ah, he was starting to relax into this.

Finally.

Green started to fondle his balls with one hand, pumping lightly with the other while his mouth worked on slicking Red's dick up. He could practically feel Red straining to hold back, so- inwardly smirking- Green squeezed as hard as he could and started to stroke faster.

Red came within seconds with a loud cry, which he tried to mask halfway through.

Most of the cum went down Green's throat, but some of it splashed out and he almost gagged. He pulled off and coughed, wiping his mouth with a sleeve.

"Jesus shit, that was amazing . . ." Red murmured, dazed, as Green sat up.

Green started to remove his own trousers and underwear as Red carried on talking, completely unaware of the second part to come.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Red asked him.

"You learn a thing or two on the streets." Green replied, distracted. "I just watched, mostly."

"Mostly? So you've had some practise . . . I can tell, no one just gives a blowjob as good as that on their first try . . . fucking hell, that was amazing!" Red laughed somewhat breathlessly.

Green couldn't really reply, because he was sucking on his fingers at the moment.

When they were wet enough, he took them out of his mouth and spread his legs a little bit, so he could prepare himself easier.

"I'm half-tempted to ask for you to make this a regular thing, but . . . I'm not gonna take advantage of you." Red sighed. "Even if that was the most amazing blowjob I've ever gotten . . ."

Green had gotten two fingers inside of himself by now and was scissoring them. He tried to keep any noises quiet, because this part was gonna be another surprise for Red- even more than the blowjob.

"And that's even counting some of the ones I got from chicks at high school." Red went on. "I'm not trying to make anyone feel inferior, but they were kind of . . . crappy. Just wanted me to fuck them and be done with it- but like I told you, I'm not gonna take advantage, so I never did. 'sides, I don't really like girls in that way."

"That so?" Green mumbled, wincing when he slid a third finger in. He was probably prepared enough by now, but it didn't hurt to be certain, right?

"Nah . . . liked boys better. Unfortunately, there wasn't really anyone else who felt that way, so I was stuck with getting blowjobs from girls in the cleaning cupboards or something."

Once he was satisfied, Green pulled his fingers out. Hopefully this wouldn't hurt as much as it usually did, Red was kind of . . . well, thick as well as long.

He moved up so he was leaning over Red, ass positioned over his dick carefully.

"Hey, Red . . .?"

Red looked at him- or he moved his head to look at Green, because he was still blindfolded. That'd only make this next part feel even better.

Green leaned down and kissed him. Red was a little surprised, but he kissed back after a couple of seconds- and Green pulled away just before it got too heated.

"I said this was a 'thank you'." Green murmured, grabbing Red's dick in his hand and stroking, to make it hard again. "And . . . you know very well that I am not one to leave something half-finished."

"W-wha- ooh- what're you . . ."

"Let me help you relax." Green whispered.

And with that said, he lowered himself down. Red's dick slid into him, and they both gasped, Green far louder than Red.

Jesus fucking christ, he _was_ big.

"Oh my god . . . oh my god . . ." Red moaned. "I-I didn't . . . expect t-this . . ."

"Good." Green replied breathlessly. "This was a suprise, you know."

"Certainly was." the police officer agreed.

"And I'd hate for- mmhp- I'd hate for a surprise to be . . . found." Green said.

Red was fully sheathed inside of him now, and holy _shit_ this was amazing.

He felt so full, so . . . so damn good.

Better start moving, before he got used to this and it hurt if he tried to shift. It was better to move before you got used to the feeling, it'd mean the pain would be lessened by a lot.

Green raised himself until he could only feel the tip inside, and then slowly went back down. It also wasn't a good idea to just slam yourself onto the dick, that was just . . . really, really stupid.

Red moaned, and his hands jerked, rattling the handcuffs. Clearly he wanted to do something himself, but this was supposed to relieve his stress, so he wasn't going to be doing anything yet.

He kept going like that for a few minutes, getting used to the feeling and Red's size. Once he felt he was, and once he started to get bored of slowly moving up and down, Green started to go a bit faster.

Oooh holy shit this was amazing.

And then Red bucked so violently that his dick slammed into Green, and the fortune teller- former, possibly- yelped.

"Just because this is my surprise . . ." Red said, breathless and heated. "Doesn't mean I can't do anything . . ."

"Give me some warning n-next time." Green muttered.

He started up again, going faster- feeling Red slide into him easier and harder- and leaned over somewhat akwardly so he could kiss Red again.

This time Red took control almost immediately, and slid his tongue into Green's mouth.

They both moaned and Green knew damn well he was close to cumming, but he had to hold on until Red came inside him first. Red was supposed to be relieving himself, it wouldn't do much good if Green was too tired to carry on with this before he finished.

The thought of Red taking complete control and pinning Green down, fucking him senseless, flashed in his mind. He beat it back with a mental stick.

Maybe some other time.

"Mm . . . M'close . . ." Red panted.

"G-go on . . . it's okay . . ." Green whispered, picking up the pace until Red was letting out a string of curses and moans.

"A-ah . . . F-fuck- fuck! Green!"

Red came, and Green felt it slide inside him. This was definitely better than any other time.

He finally let himself come, gasping loudly.

" . . . Aah . . ." Green sighed. He lifted himself up, off Red's dick, and sat carefully on the man's stomach.

Green reached forward and took the blindfold off Red, throwing it somewhere in the corner along with their trousers. He fumbled slightly when taking the handcuffs off, but Red waited patiently because, well, Green could barely move without trembling.

"That's . . . gonna be sore . . . in the morning." Green panted, finally managing to take the handcuffs off.

Red chuckled breathlessly, rubbing his wrists.

"I wouldn't worry about that." he replied.

"What?"

Red suddenly flipped them over, and then he was pinning Green down with one hand, the other stroking himself so he was getting hard again.

Oh. Looked like it was gonna happen sooner than Green thought.

"You said this was my surprise." Red murmured, leaning down so their lips were almost touching. "A 'thank you' . . . and a way for me to relieve some stress. I think that means I'm entitled to do whatever I want now, right?"

"Well . . . I didn't really this so soon . . ."

"Good. I'd hate to be predictable." Red said, and then he captured Green's lips and forced his tongue inside again.

Green was so focused on the tongue battle that he didn't even notice Red lining himself up, and let out a high-pitched yell when Red pushed back inside of his ass.

"Just relax . . ." Red grinned, as Green whimpered and gasped.

He didn't even give Green a chance to adjust, but that was fine. He'd already gotten used to the officer's size, so the feel of having it back inside of him, slamming into him, wasn't painful at all. It was just pure pleasure.

Green wrapped his arms around Red's neck as the other man lifted his hips up, giving himself better access.

For a while there was no other sounds except for their combined moans, Green's yelps and whimpers, and the sound of Red slamming into Green as hard as he could. The fact that they could both see each other this time only made Green harder, because he could see the animalistic lust in Red's eyes.

Then Red pulled out, leaving Green empty and confused.

The confusion didn't last long as Red turned him over, so that Green was on his hands and knees. The empty feeling lasted all of two seconds, because Red pushed back in and wrapped his arms around Green's waist.

Green couldn't help it. He screamed, wordless at first, and then a repeated chant of Red's name falling from his lips brokenly. Red was getting louder too.

"R-Re- Red- oh m-my- AH!"

Green came, not even bothering to even attempt to stop himself this time. It was pretty much impossible when Red was doing the work this time, practically drilling into him like a dog or something.

"If . . . if I had . . . had been this s-stressed before . . ." Red panted, leaning over Green's back so he could mutter into his ear. "W-would you have . . . done this?"

"M-m-maybe . . ." Green whimpered, wincing. He was starting to get hard again, fucking hell, hurry up Red!

But it seemed like this time it was Red who was holding back, and he could almost feel the smug grin Red was giving him.

Bastard.

At least he wasn't as stressed as he'd been before, though.

Green clawed the bedsheets, screaming when- somehow- Red sped up even more and slammed into him harder than before. It probably should have been painful, and he was definitely gonna feel this in the morning, but whatever he didn't care right now.

"I came twice before . . ." Red hissed. "So it's only fair that you do too."

Oh, so that's what he was-

Red started to pump Green's dick and he yelped loudly, high-pitched.

It was a combination of that and the fact that Red was actually fucking him like this that made Green come again.

And then- finally- Red came as well. They both tensed, Red holding on as tightly as he could, and rode out both their orgasms.

Once that was done, Red pulled out slowly and flopped down on his back. Green just collapsed and then allowed Red to sort of tug him over, so they were cuddled together.

"That was one hell of a thank you." Red murmured.

"You . . . enjoyed it . . ." Green replied breathlessly.

"I sure as hell did . . . and you're probably gonna be in a lot of pain tomorrow." Red laughed.

"Oh piss off."

That only made Red laugh louder.

 **OOOOOO**

Renny: I'm aware that the porn bit kind of sucks, but this isn't an omega!verse, so I couldn't really do the dom-sub thing to the max like I wanted to. But whatever, I got to write porn! As promised!

Green: For once.

Renny: Haha shut up. Anyway . . . read and review!


	3. NEW ACCOUNT

Hey guys. I know this seems kinda sudden, but I'm moving accounts.

The new one is called RennyBanette, and since FF is a bitch for links, you'll either have to type in the name in the search thing or, alternatively, go to this profile page and follow the link there.

This fic will not be posted on my new account. In case you were going to ask.

Anyway, see you guys on my new account!


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